Scars
by Homesweetdali
Summary: AU since 7.23 into The End'verse. All paths lead to the same destination. The apocalypse is over, but Sam doesn't want to live after all that's happened.
1. Chapter 1: Rising Sun

Title: Scars  
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort,  
Characters: Sam, Castiel, others  
Warnings: drug use, violence, blood and gore, sensuality  
Summary: AU since 7.23 into The End'verse. All paths lead to the same destination. The apocalypse is over, but Sam doesn't want to live after all that's happened.

Ch.1: Rising Sun

Desolation was all there was. It had become a familiarity- a commonplace, and although the apocalypse was fleeting it left much to be desired in its wake.

Those few who remained sought after new lives while others tried to continue where they left off, and some- the least fortunate, wondered still if there was anything worth holding on to.

The rain was warm as it beat down in heavy sheets, forming pools of muddied ground beneath a mans soles. He stared blankly outwards toward a cleared plain and watched the rising sun from a distance. It's rays we're unnaturally red and bled into the atmosphere where they stained the sky.  
He took a moment to look down as he raised his palms to his face. They too were red. They were also sore and littered with bloodied cuts and scratches that puddled with the rain.  
The man fell to his knees, palms smeared on either side of his face. He wailed uncontrollably into the risen sun.

"Hey." a voice called out. It reverberated throughout Sam's mind, bouncing left and right.  
Weakly, he opened his eyes only to squeeze them shut in bitter agony.  
"The light." he groaned.

The voice made an understanding grunt as it moved farther away.  
There was a snapping of curtains, that signaled for Sam to open his eyes again.

"Still sensitive? Sure you're not a vampire now?" Cas jested as he walked towards the opposite side of the cabin.  
Sam watched him without expression or rebuttal.  
"How's your-" Sam gestured vaguely at Cas, the action had made Cas chuckle in response.  
"This-" he returned the hand motions languidly on to himself. "-will heal with time." He pulled out a bottle from a wooden cabinet and promptly took a large swig from it. "Among other things."  
Cas grabbed another and handed it to Sam who nodded in refusal.  
"Suit yourself."  
Cas limped to the bed adjacent to Sams.  
It was otherworldly to see him like this. So mangled and broken. So human.  
Sam swallowed at the tightening in his throat while he looked over the multitude of bandages on Cas' chest and limbs. His ribs were fractured and as a result, made it more difficult for him to walk around.  
Cas noticed the stares, taking a moment to put aside his drink.  
Sam shifted awkwardly, looking down at his feet as he cradled both hands between his legs.  
"Sam- I'll be fine." Cas mumbled.  
Sam continued to look down. He seemed to be struggling with something, his words couldn't quite form. He was too consumed with emotion, with guilt.  
"Cas...I think I should start heading out." He said.  
Cas had began to drink again, then paused and tilted his head back against the shifty headboard.  
"And where exactly do you plan to go?" he asked. His voice was low but strained.  
Sam let out a frustrated sigh and strode towards the opened doorway.  
No one was left at Camp Chautauqua, either having been killed in the suicide mission or fled after promises of a better life- the long awaited end to the apocalypse. Sam laughed to himself at the thought. There was nothing left for him in this world, and even if there was he didn't deserve it.

+

His breathing was heavy, but his strength had not yet been depleted. Sam trudged through the dirt and mud, ignoring the ever nagging pull that it gave to his legs as if the earth wanted to engulf him.  
He had to see, he had to see for himself.  
"DEAN!" he screamed, he cried, he breathed. Until all that came out were broken hyperventilations, and then silence. It was deafening, and nothing felt emptier than at that moment, by his brothers side.  
Not far off in the distance there was a hacking noise.  
Caught in a haze, Sam wouldn't have noticed it if it hadn't have called out that name.  
"Dean! De-chhah." the coughing persisted.  
Shaken, Sam scurried around until he found Cas lain on his back with an arm wrapped around his waist and blood drenched in every fibre of his clothing.  
"-Cas." Sam managed with what was left of his voice. The bodies that surrounded Cas were unresponsive to Sams presence.  
The man looked up at Sam with a distant stare. One of his eyes was too bruised to see through.  
"Stay away from me!" he shouted. Sam stood his ground. Cas shifted painfully up on his elbow, his head wobbled from side to side.  
Sam promptly lifted the wounded man, positioning him carefully over his shoulder.  
Cas cried out in pain, his face distorted into grimaces that reflected his inner turmoil.  
"You killed him!" he fidgeted, deliriously. His shouts of rebellion mingled with those of physical pain. They soon turned to cries. "He's dead!...Dean's-!" he soon drifted out of consciousness.  
Sam said nothing in his own defense, however his frame trembled profusely as he carried Cas to shelter.


	2. Chapter 2-3

A/N: Chapters 2-3 have been combined into one post due to their lengths. They flow well into one another I think, I just didn't want to confuse anyone there. :)

Ch.2 Then and Now

The camp grounds were much lonelier with no one there to occupy them. Everything was still and quiet,  
that is, until his screams broke the lull.  
Cas awoke from his stupor, confused and in much discomfort.  
Before he could utter any coherent words, all that came out of him were violent groans.  
Using his good eye, Cas looked up from where he assumed he'd been placed; on a simple cot in one of the miscellaneous cabins of the camp. He was back.  
Not long after this realization did he notice the sudden shuffling noises being made over by the door which had been left wide open.  
Cas jerked backwards, struggling to create some kind of distance between the noises and himself.  
A large boot landed on the front steps and brought forth the rest of its rigid figure.  
He was rugged, but not nearly as much as he had been. There was dirt encrusted in his shoes and traces of blood still etched in-between his fingernails, although his clothes did look significantly cleaner.  
Sam had been exploring around the camp when he came across some spare clothing, along with a decent amount of food and various other amenities.  
Cas looked down at his own torso. He'd been bandaged from head to toe. Gauze wrapped around his arms and legs and over his chest. He was wearing a dark buttoned up shirt and a pair of worn drawstring pants.  
Cas sat upwards, groaning as he did. He looked somewhat panicked as his gaze gradually made its way to face the man in front of him.  
Sam, hesitant, stood close by the door.  
"...Sam?" cas asked. His voice was broken, and the subtle movements involved caused him to grimace as he spoke.  
Sam took a step forward, concerned. Still, he kept a stiff composure.  
"Yeah, it's me." he sighed, anxiously.  
A multitude of questions spurred throughout Cas' mind, but none of them could be formed properly without too much physical exertion. Sam chose to speak for him.  
"Lucifer is dead."  
Cas felt a sinking sensation inside of his chest.  
A flurry of elation washed over him like some great relief, and then suddenly, he was empty. Cas stared through Sam as if he was trapped in some sort of profound thought.  
'Dean'.  
The apocalypse was over with-the world had been reborn,and he would've never lived to see any of it.  
Cas looked at Sam and saw in him the same hollowness he'd felt inside himself.  
"How I survived- I don't know but, it was the last thing I saw. I brought you back here. I remember-" Sam paused heavily. The gravity of those last two words lingered with him.  
"-I've seen this place before. I knew it was safe."  
Cas closed his eye, lightly placing a palm over the other bruised lid and breathed out a long sigh. He stifled for a moment-coughing, then turned his head slowly to the side and grieved.  
The gesture caused his wounds to reopen all along his torso.  
Sam moved quickly to steady him. He willed Cas enough to lie flat so that his injuries could be redressed.  
Cas accepted without struggle. It was quiet again.

"-and where exactly do you plan to go?"  
Sam turned to face Cas, though his eyes remained focused soley on the floor below.  
He'd thought about it before and was left with no resolve. Where could he go to? How many people would know his face? How many had he influenced, killed, or corrupted? They would be eager to take him for themselves, he was sure of it, and at times he wondered if that in itself wasn't completely justified.  
"Don't even-" Cas groaned. He tipped his head forward in accusation, placing his bottle on the side table in a less than gentle manner.  
"Don't tell me- this is a suicide attempt?"  
Sam paused, his fists tightened at his sides. He clenched his jaw slightly before he responded.  
"Don't you think it makes sense?" he blurted .  
Cas squinted, his expression had become very critical. He stood despite the aches it gave him and waltzed up into Sam's space. Sam moved backwards in response, his eyes shifted away from Cas'.  
"No, in fact. Quite the opposite." There was a sudden raise in Cas' voice.  
"Come on, Cas." Sam conceded under his breath. He met Cas' eyes with hesitation.  
"You don't need me hanging around here anymore."  
Cas scoffed.  
"You really believe that?"  
Sam stood there in silence.  
Cas' eyes lowered, the purplish hue seemed to be healing well on his right lid.  
"Oh." cas nodded sarcastically, pursing his lips. He then proceeded to grab another bottle and sat back on the bed.  
"Then leave." he said flatly.  
Sam looked up at him in awe. Cas appeared to be indifferent.  
Without words Sam gradually made his way out of the cabin, not looking back at what he concluded to be nothing more than the honest truth. He wasn't needed.

Cas watched as Sam left the cabin, never once breaking his composure as the door shut gently behind him.  
Cas then tightened his grip on the new bottle at hand and proceeded to swallow it down, hastily.

Ch.3 Burying Grounds

It didn't take long for Sam to be well on his way.  
He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been walking, but from what he could tell by the amount sweat that dripped down his brow- it had been a while.  
He wasn't angry. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he'd have to move on eventually. Cas had been his friend before, but things were different now.  
After everything was said and done, he'd become what he tried so hard not to be in the past. All he wanted to do now was distance himself from returning to a normal life, and if per chance someone came along and took that from him; it would be a good thing.  
Sam decided to revisit his brother. It had been weeks and he'd yet to bury him. His stomach churned at the thought. To see him again, and like that-it was a gruesome vision, so he decided not to think about it.  
Sam stumbled towards his destination, gagging as he roamed through a number of decayed bodies he'd forgotten were also spread amongst the old battle field.  
His mouth was dry, and his hair stuck to the sides of his face. He closed his eyes, feeling his pulse rev all throughout his body; his lungs pulsated as if he was choking on his own heart.  
Sam had to keep himself from falling over as he trudged up to where his brother should've lied.  
Only, he wasn't there.  
Sam slid to the ground in exhaustion, his brows furrowed in confusion.  
It wasn't long before his head started to throb, and his vision faded.

Sam heard voices from far away. Two people spoke to one another heatedly although he couldn't see them too clearly, something was keeping him out. Regardless, he could still hear faint pieces of their conversation.  
-"it's come to thi-"  
-"ou'll never understan-..."

"Goodbye, brother."  
There was a sudden flash of light and it burned him from the inside. A part of him felt like he was coming to- like he was surfacing from underneath a giant pool, gasping for air.

"Boy, you alright?!"  
Sam squinted upwards, coughing. Someone had poured a canteen of water down his throat.  
"how did you expect to make it out here without any fluid, what are you an idjit!?"  
The word was so familiar to Sam. He blinked a few times, processing it. His eyes then shot open as he looked up at the person in shock.  
"Bobby!" Sam shouted.  
Bobby covered his ears.  
"Yeah-I'm alive, not deaf."  
Sam was at a loss for words so instead, he promptly stood to embrace the older man with the little strength he had.  
"I know-" Bobby patted his back. "-s'good to see you too, boy."

A lot of things ceased to make sense to Sam after the apocalypse, but this especially befuddled him. The last time Sam saw Bobby alive was long before the end, before the purgatory incident even.  
Bobby came by truck. The two rode a while as Sam drilled Bobby with his many inquiries.  
"Dunno how." Bobby answered. "But what a hell of a time to come back-just as the worlds friggin' ending."  
Bobby didn't know how he was revived, but it turned out to be just as soon as the apocalypse began. He found Dean in his home, searching for supplies -most likely just before they moved on to the camp.  
Sam ceased to ask him any more after Dean was mentioned.  
"I was going to bury him." Sam mumbled.  
Bobby glanced at him briefly before focusing ahead.  
"-his body, it wasn't there." Sam continued.  
Bobby's grip tightened at the wheel.  
"Lucifer is dead." Sam mentioned though he wasn't sure why, it felt apologetic.  
"I figured that much." Bobby grunted.  
"How else would you be here, talking to me?" Sam nodded in agreement.  
"Why is it though- why we're you just wandering out here by yourself? You got no place to stay?"  
Sam swallowed apprehensively. He sensed that Bobby already knew he wasn't planning to go on for much longer.  
"I did. At the camp, with Cas."  
Bobby made a surprised expression.  
The question nearly answered itself so Sam simply nodded to Bobby's calculating stare.  
"Well ain't that something." Bobby suddenly shifted the steering wheel.  
Sam's face strained in confusion.  
"What are you doing?" Sam asked.  
"Well I'm taking us there, o'course." Bobby paused. "Anyway, trust me you don't want to leave him by his lonesome for too long. Cas has- well the boy just ain't been right for some time now. I doubt he's changed much since I've been gone."  
Sam pursed his lips, staring out the window. After what had happened he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to go back there, but he didn't have it in him to explain it to Bobby so instead he chose to remain silent for the rest of the ride.


	3. Chapter 4: Habitual

Ch.4 Habitual

It was already nightfall when they arrived.

"Damn ghost town." Bobby commented, slamming the car door.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. He shuffled his boots around in the rocky soil, it was the only other sound being made aside from the muffled chirping of crickets out in the distance.

"I hope you don't mind, but I think I'm gunna find a place to sleep first- we can have our little reunion thing in the morning." Sam turned to face Bobby but he'd already taken off, hardly giving Sam the time it took to respond.

Sam shrugged, and chose not to think anything of it as he started towards his own cabin.  
It was empty and dust ridden,just as he'd left it. There wasn't much there aside from a bed and a small, empty dresser.  
He dropped onto the worn mattress with gusto and stared listlessly at the ceiling.

The sudden gravity of solitude felt peculiar to Sam, it also made him restless. Admittedly, he'd gotten used to sharing a cabin with Cas; it was precautionary, back when Cas was still recovering from the worst of his injuries and could hardly move. He was quieter then, and not just because it pained him to speak. Often Sam would find Cas gazing out through the window, every time he'd been staring up into the skies.  
He wondered if Cas remembered what it was like to be an angel, whether humanity had fully consumed that part of him or not.  
Whenever Cas looked at him, Sam felt an incredible pang of guilt for ever having had the thought cross his mind.  
The feeling worsened as Cas started talking to him more frequently, and with such familiarity. It reminded him of Dean. Sam could tell that the time spent with his brother had rubbed off on Castiel by certain aspects of his personality.

Sam turned roughly on his side. His eyes started to droop slowly-snapping open when suddenly, there were fumbling noises coming from outside.  
Sam reached underneath his bed and grabbed a pistol that had been kept hidden there.  
He then creeped cautiously towards the window and pulled back the curtains.  
There wasn't anything out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. Still, he decided it was better to make sure.  
Sam tucked the pistol into his back pocket and went outside.  
A few minutes had passed and after another random outburst he hurried over towards Cas' cabin, where the noises seemed to be coming from.  
He rushed through the beaded curtain, taking a few strands down with him as he did.

This seemed to catch the attention of the chuckling form sprawled out by the bed.  
"Sam!" Cas beamed as he watched a couple of beads roll idly by.  
Sam hesitated. Cas was delirious. He couldn't have been sober, at least that's what Sam thought to himself.  
He took a few steps forward before he noticed the makeshift box toppled over on the floor adjacent to Cas' foot.  
In it were a number of miscellaneous bottles and bags filled with what he could only assume were drugs.  
"Cas-" Sam said ,greatly taken aback.

Cas laughed hysterically at the dumbfounded look that sprung across Sams face.  
Sam in turn fixed his face into a much more stern composition. Cas didn't seem to notice, and allowed Sam to walk up to the box and snatch it in his arms.  
Sam rifled through the various labels until he noticed an opened baggy containing a few small pills.  
"What is this?" he scolded, holding the bag in front of himself.  
Cas tilted his head up lazily, then dropped it back down against the floor with a thud.  
"Desoxyn." he murmured airily.  
Sam fumbled with his words- unsure of how to deal this situation, he settled for an aggressive approach. "Meth?" he rebuked.  
Sam wiped his his hands over his face and sighed, frustrated.

He took the box outside with him to dispose of its contents.  
Cas, too occupied by the hallucinations that formed on the ceiling above him, let Sam do as he pleased.  
Sam walked far along the outskirts of the camp and tossed the box into a large ditch. He then sat there at its edge and rested for a moment.

Although Sam wasn't sure what he should've been feeling at that time, anger was certainly seething in him. He wasn't even entirely sure why, but the thought of Cas poisoning himself with drugs had him feeling betrayed. All the time he'd spent taking care of him, only to be wasted.  
However, Cas hadn't been the only one trying to put an end to himself. Sam didn't want to think of it that way.  
He was the worthless one, his life was disposable- no one deserved to die more than him.  
One of those small tablets Cas had taken laid beside Sam in the grass. He picked it up and turned it over between his thumb and forefinger before violently chucking it down into the ditch with the others.

When Sam returned, Cas was convulsing on his stomach.

Almost immediately, Sam ran to turn him safely on his side.

Cas' face was strained. Tears streaked out from his eyes. He was having a seizure.  
Sam kept one hand firmly on Cas' shoulder so that he wouldn't roll over, any further contact wouldnt have been very helpful.

It lasted for several long minutes.

Cas settled down after a few final spasms, but said nothing. His gaze was sullen and empty.  
Sam sighed, relieved that it was finally over. He then lifted Cas to the bathroom, ignoring the urine that seeped through his pant fabric.

Sam stripped the soiled clothing off and tossed it to the side. He then briefly clothed Cas in a pair of clean drawers and slowly placed him on the bed.  
Cas sighed faintly, wincing when he felt the hard mattress against his back.  
Sam started to pull away, releasing his grip on Cas' shoulder as he finished placing him on the bed.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Cas caught Sam by the wrist.  
Sam looked down at him warily, but Cas refused to let him go.  
"Stay." he pleaded.  
Sam wasn't sure how to react. He wrestled his arm back gently, brows furrowed. Cas observed him in dismay.

"Please."

Sam stood there for a moment, holding on to the wrist Cas had gripped so tightly before. He appeared to be conflicted.

Without speaking, Sam shifted out of his boots and coat and lied down beside Cas.  
Cas trembled with gratitude, his eyes watered against his will. Sam breathed deeply inward as he reached out to wipe Cas' face for him. Cas' eyes flickered closed at the touch, it wasn't long before he fell asleep.  
Satisfied, Sam tucked an arm underneath his own pillow and slept.


	4. Chapter 5: Hope

Ch.5 Hope

Cas woke in a panic, his thoughts were scattered.

He looked down at the floor and noticed with curiosity that his pillow had fallen there overnight.

He turned on his side, confused when he felt something propped underneath his head.  
It was a hand.

"Sam?"

Cas stared at the sleeping man, perplexed. Vague memories from the night before began to resurface.  
He looked away, fumbling over what had happened in his mind.

A pit formed in Cas' stomach as he glanced back over at Sam.

He couldn't help himself- he laughed.  
It was a light hearted laugh which he quickly forced himself to stifle so as not to wake Sam.

He stared at him for what seemed to be the longest time, his head still rested on top of the obscured hand.

It was the second time he'd been found so close to death. It was the second time he'd been saved.

Cas stretched out his free arm and smoothed over Sam's head, combing through the hair.  
It was a subconscious action.  
Sam leaned into it, whispering some incoherent word. Cas moved closer to be able to hear it more clearly.

"Jess." Sam mumbled.

Cas had frozen all of a sudden.

Quickly-he snatched his hand back with a slight tug. His face had become very drawn. Sam stirred from the pull, his eyes opened gradually.

"...Cas." Sam said groggily.

Cas' eyes were averted, although his expression appeared to be unaffected.

"How're you feeling?"

Cas sat up and just as he was about to speak, there was a knock on the door.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Bobby said as he let himself in.

Sam fidgeted out of the bed, flustered.  
Cas was too busy gazing out at Bobby to notice.

"I couldn't find you in any of the other cabins-thought I'd try Cas. Although I gotta admit, didn't think I'd find you here too."

Sam coughed uncomfortably . "Bobby-"

"Save it, kid. We'll chit chat after breakfast." with that, Bobby started for the door.

"How are you alive?" Cas demanded. Sam looked confused by the question.

Without turning around Bobby answered. "After breakfast." and continued to leave.

All three men sat in the truck. Apparently, Bobby planned to go out for breakfast.

"Y'know, civilization's starting up again. Might as well go out and experience it."

Cas gave bobby a skeptical look, scratching at his facial hair.

Sam had already shaven before they'd left-Cas preferred the latter himself.

"I've been around-I know a couple places, alright?" Bobby raised his voice at the other two.

"And just how may I ask have you had the time to come across these places?" Cas pressed.

Bobby gripped the wheel before letting out a long breath.  
"Go ahead, tell him."

Sam glanced curiously over the two.  
Cas spoke, not focusing on anything other than the road.

"Bobby was infected."

Sam looked at Bobby in disbelief.

"Croatoan?"

"It was an ambush." Cas continued. "We were at a disadvantage, Bobby-"

"I got stuck under some rubble. There was no time to get me out. I told them to go on without me."

Cas sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Dean. You told Dean to go on."

Sam swallowed and looked out the window.

"Yeah, well. Either way it wore off somehow. I don't know how, let alone when-it all felt like such a blur. Like I'd been completely drained of something. Then I was myself again."

"Do you think it's like this for others?" Sam chimed in.

"Can't say. Anythings possible at this point." and that's when it hit Sam.

"Deans body was missing when I went to go bury him."

Cas looked up at him, alarmed.

"You don't think- could he still be alive somewhere? I mean, if it's not Croats, he can't be infected. Then how else-"

"The place were going to, there might be someone who can help us with that. There's a lot of talk that goes around in places like this."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"It's a hunters' bar. They've got plenty of newcomers-you can be sure of that, but there outta be one or two who's heard something about your brother. I'm sure it's quite the topic nowadays."

Sam looked back outside of the window and sunk deeper into his seat.

"Hopefully none of them know my face then." he murmured.

Cas heard him and briefly placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam gave him a weak look before he turned away.

The bar was farther than Bobby remembered and by the time they reached it, it was already well past noon.  
The bar was dark on the inside, but fully animated, none the less.  
It felt odd that a place like this could still be so lively after all this time.  
Bobby had been talking with one of the managers before he and Sam settled down, into a booth.

"Pardon me gentlemen." Cas exused himself from the table and walked over to a group of ladies who'd been casting flirtatious glances his way.  
Sam raises an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Same as always, I see." Bobby commented.

"Cas?" Sam asked in disbelief. "Since when?"

Bobby made an exasperated noise before he picked up his beer.

"I told you-boy ain't been right. First the drinking, then drugs-" Sam looked down.  
"-then suddenly he goes all 'love guru.'"

At that, Sam spit out his drink.

"Boy-!" Bobby flinched, grabbing a napkin.

"Sorry." Sam apologized.

"He'd been doing drugs when I found him-the other night."

Bobby nodded in acknowledgment.

"Can't say I'm really that surprised."

"He'd never done it before-" Sam urged. He explained how he'd been the one to find Cas, back when he was bloodied and half conscious; how in all the time he'd taken care of him Cas hadn't done much more than drink a few bottles.  
"It was the first time I'd ever seen him like that- after we got back. " he paused. "After I left."

"Hm." Bobby hummed."Sounds like he needs you."

Sam laughed, looking over at Cas who was murmuring words to the red head who for some reason chose to sit on his lap rather than the perfectly functional chair next to him.

"I think he's doing all right at the moment." Sam's laugh died out, he proceeded to drink.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"About your brother. I spoke to the manager of this place." Sam placed his beer aside, focusing intently on Bobby's every word.

"He said-well from what he's heard, the 'righteous man' has been rumored to jump from place to place. He never stays in one area."

"That means he could be anywhere." Sam breathed out in frustration.

"Yeah...only the last person who claimed to've seen him said he's been shacking up a couple dozen miles from here."

"What-" Sam looked up in alarm.  
"-then why don't we go look for him?! That's close, bobby. That's nothing."

"Hold your horses, I ain't finished."  
Bobby sighed looking down at his empty plate.

"They say he's been hanging around some demons."

Sam shrunk back immediately, a rage built up in him he couldn't control. He swatted at his dishes in anger, causing them to shatter on the wooden floorboards. The bar went quiet.  
Sam took in the accommodating stares instigated by his episode and promptly walked out for some air.

This place was in the middle of nowhere, it seemed. All around the building were trees and a dirt road and not much else. There were a few houses scattered about, but it was obvious that none of them were inhabited.

Sam sat outside the bar, seated on one of the wooden benches.  
He looked down at his hand and noticed it had been cut from the glass, but he didn't care.  
He just closed his eyes and sat, thinking.

Had Dean been kidnapped or did he choose to be around demons-was he really still alive after everything that had happened? Was he still human, even?

A touch at his wounded palm disrupted his thoughts.  
Cas stood beside him, wrapping a cloth napkin around Sam's cut which had begun to drip down onto the porch.

"Guess the food wasn't to your liking?"

Sam Withdrew his hand as soon as Cas finished tying.

"Somethin' like that." Sam groaned, he placed his head in his hands.

Cas put his hand on Sams shoulder.

"Dean would never go down that path, Sam."  
Sam looked up at Cas, wide-eyed.

"What was he like?"Sam asked, wondering why he hadn't asked before.

Cas lifted his gaze breathing inwardly in contemplation.

"We both were very distant. He secluded himself; he was cold and strategic, but somewhere-behind all of the walls, ...it was still him."

Sam stared out with a blank expression, mulling over Cas' words.  
The weight of Cas' hand on his shoulder resonated with Sam as he stood, shifting out of reach.  
He looked Cas over with a fondness.

"We should get going."

The ride back to camp was long but peaceful.

The trio decided by then that the best course of action would be to train early in the morning, gathering the necessary supplies; salt, iron, and so forth. Then when everything was sufficient, they would begin to search for Dean.

In the mean time Bobby drove while the hum of the truck took precedence over an otherwise silent atmosphere.

He glanced over at the other two and saw that they had both fallen asleep.  
Cas leaned limply at Sam's side-his mouth agape, cautioning the ever impending drool that pooled there. Sam was heavily drooped in his own seat. His head tilted on top of Cas' as it wobbled slightly, back and forth.

"Idjits." Bobby huffed, he gently turned the steering wheel.


	5. Chapter 6: Stay

A/N: There are a couple chapters left! I originally posted this on DW In its entirety. This was my first spn fic and I'm planning on doing more in the future. Forgive any grammatical errors I make- I do everything strictly from my phone ever since my laptop broke. I will go over every post that I make regardless. I hope those who are keeping up with this one are enjoying it. I'm not much of a romantic writer (ohohoho) I ussually write adventure stories on my spare time, actually. Anyway, enough chat- back to the story!

Ch.6 Stay

"You okay?" A gruff voice rumbled in the darkness.

It was a place cut off from the rest of the world- not unlike the rest of the world.  
However, he was in hiding, and this place needed to be even farther than the end of days.

Dean was alive, and he was tired.

"I'm perfectly stable, unlike yourself."  
The other responded, kneeling by Deans side.

"Here-" They lightly dabbed at deans forehead which had been marked by a violent scar. Dean remained unaffected by the pain.  
The other took notice of deans resilience with an admirable nod.

"Tough one, aren't you?"

Dean breathed heavily outwards then looked down at his hands in defeat,they laid limply on top of his thighs.  
He'd been badly injured, although he could move now-it was only just enough to get around. He bared the brunt of it all in their travels.

"What's with the long face, cupcake?"

Dean seemed to be slightly amused by the pet-name, but spoke gravely none the less.

"I'm a cripple, sister. You'd be better off on your own. Why're you even helping me in the first place?"

The other one wasn't surprised by the comment, it seemed they were even understanding .

"You know why." They said gruffly, helping dean stand up.  
"Now come on, you should eat something."

They helped Dean over to the makeshift table forged out of wooden boards and stools-Deans arm hooked around their shoulders.

Dean held back suddenly, hesitating. The other looked at him in question.

"What's the matter?" They asked.

Dean searched their face not looking for anything in particular. He then leaned in on them carefully, trying not to apply too much of his own weight and briefly brushed his lips against theirs. The movement made him wince, in spite of himself.

"Thank you." He said so quietly, it was little more than a whisper. The words had perplexed himself just as much, coming out.

The other looked away with a short but light bout of laughter, then looked back at dean with a softened expression that was much unlike themselves and said, "No sweat. Now lets eat."

When Camp Chautauqua was abandoned, there'd been a good amount of supplies left behind-however salt was not one of them, oddly enough.

After a moments worth of cursing, Bobby decided he would have to make a run to some supply vendors located-not so close, by the camp.  
Without any other means, Sam could do nothing but allow Bobby to proceed while he and Cas remained back at camp.

He decided that he and Cas should practice with the 'Real' guns that'd been shacked up in the armory, collecting dust.

"It's been a while..." Sam said, lifting a rifle.

Cas looked at him warily.  
"Since you've fought?" Cas asked, tilting a cigarette in one hand.

Sam looked at it indignantly before turning his gaze away.  
Cas looked to the side, abashed. He then quickly put the cigarette out and stamped it into the dirt.

"Not exactly." Sam replied.

Cas looked as though he was about to say something when Sam interrupted.  
"Here. Lets get started." Sam handed Cas one of the guns, roughly.

They both headed out into the fields to shoot.

Sam set up a decent amount of bottles and other targets for them to take aim at. It had been a while since he'd actually used his own hands in combat. He tried to work the gun awkwardly.  
He wasn't entirely incompetent, but still-the rate at which he was going would've been problematic, had it been a real fight.  
The task should've been elementary to him, he knew that-he'd hunted for the majority of his life. It didn't take long for him to start developing frustrations.

"Hey." Cas said calmly. He placed a hand above Sam's who was trying to get the gun to shoot by force.

"I, can't." Sam fumed.

Cas' brows furrowed.  
"Can't what, Sam?"

Sam sighed, looking at Cas.  
"I don't remember how to shoot."

Sam didn't like explaining things that happened to him while he was Lucifer's vessel, but part of him felt that Cas needed to know-that he wanted Sam to tell him.

"My mind was warped in some places-I...can't remember certain things. Nothing that important, just simple things. Like this." He raised the gun in emphasis.

"Here." Cas adjusted the gun for him. The irony of the situation was well beyond them.

Cas pressed his palm down on Sam's back, prompting him to kneel in front of the targets. He did so without argument.

"Try to shoot that one." He pointed to one of the furthest bottles.

Sam aimed for it, and missed.  
He clenched his jaw, biting back the inevitable feeling of self-loathing.

Cas squatted down to his level and swiftly placed his arms around Sams.  
Sam shifted to accommodate him.

"Focus, don't get so worked up-you have to align the target."

Cas positioned Sams hands so that they were accurately aligned with the rifle, his right hand on the trigger.

"Whenever you're ready."

Sam nodded, pulling the trigger-nothing happened.  
Cas recognized the problem right away.

"Safety's turned on."

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at the simple mistake.  
Cas reached forward to turn the safety off. His face grazed against Sams cheek as he did.  
Sam watched Cas from his peripheral.

"When did you learn how to shoot?" He asked.

"Not long after Dean and I returned." Cas breathed. He pulled back, moving to sit beside Sam, his legs crossed.  
"Purgatory... That was an adventure." Cas mused, darkly. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, but didn't light it. It dwindled limply between his fingers.  
Sam stared at it vacantly.

"Why the drugs, Cas?" Sam asked, looking downwards. Something in him felt very anxious-the question was like a double edged sword; although Sam wanted to know the answer, he was still afraid of what might be said.

"I was left behind. My-brothers, sisters..." He huffed out a bitter laugh.  
"I became human, and well-I decided to indulge myself." He looked down at his cigarette, seemingly contemplating whether or not he was going to make use of it.

"You shouldn't do those kinds of things, Cas." Sam said reluctantly.  
Cas looked at him, falsely grinning.

"Why's that, Sam?"

Sam spoke out of concern, but on the inside he felt also that it wasn't within his rights to instruct Cas on how he should be living his life. It was his life now, after all.

"Do you know why I said yes?" Sam's voice strained.

Cas went quiet, suddenly very attentive.

"It was the only way to free you two from Purgatory. He made me agree to become his vessel, and Dean still-"  
Sam gritted his teeth and looked out at the field.  
"I was cheated. None of you should've been harmed, it was my fault. Everything."

Cas breathed outwardly, moving closer to Sam. He'd put his cigarette back in his pocket.

Cas took Sams wounded palm, encompassing it with both of his own.

"This is familiar." Cas said, momentarily dazed.  
"Back then,... I'd been wrong about you." Cas shifted back a bit, relinquishing his hold. Sam watched him, puzzled.

"You are no abomination, sacrificed yourself-time and again, never holding any regards for your own well being. Even now, you strive to put others before yourself, always."  
Sam looked sullen as Cas leaned forward -his breath was warm on Sams collar. "...You-shouldn't do those kinds of things." Cas mumbled, he then stood up and stretched his limbs.

Sam looked up in a daze, he was at a loss for words.  
Did cas care about him? It hadn't even crossed Sams mind that he-of all people-should play a part in anyone's worries or concerns.  
He then realized what a fool he'd been. Constantly bringing himself down, brooding. If Dean was around, he'd have called Sam a huge girl and told him to stop whining about things he couldn't control.

All of this time Sam had been drowning himself in self-pity, when there were still people around who genuinely cared about him.  
Bobby...Cas.

Sam felt a pang of something warm when he looked up at him.  
He couldn't grasp just exactly what that was yet, but he accepted it just the same. It made him feel whole.

Cas stared back at him with a similar expression until his focus was caught by something in the distance. He quickly lifted his gun and strode protectively infront of Sam.  
Sam stood, following Cas' lead.

"Hello, gentlemen." Their voice was raspy and deep. There were five of them, all men and each looking more blood-thirsty than the last.

"We've come to inquire some information if you'd be so kind?" The leader-it seemed, stepped towards them with a crooked grin.

"Demons?" Sam whispered.  
Cas shrugged, unknowingly.

The man looked between the two-his expression portrayed some kind of twisted amusement, it soon turned into an impatient grimace.

"Where is Meg!?"


	6. Chapter 7: Scars

Ch.7 Scars

"-Ah!"

"I said, -don't flinch!"

Dean furrowed as his leg wounds were being addressed.

"Easier said than done."  
He watched as she continued to clean the cuts that'd been freshly strewn all along his right calve.

"You saved my ass back there." She said, throwing away the dirtied cotton balls.

"Yeah, well. No problem." Dean tilted his head against cold rock of the cave. He looked around in distaste.

"You really live in this dump?"

She scoffed, rubbing the alcohol none too gently on one of his many angry scratches-Dean groaned exasperatedly.

"Hey, nice digs are hard to come by these days. You take what you can get."  
Dean murmured in agreement.

There was a long stretch of silence before she spoke again.

"Really though, thanks for helping me. What you did back there-I can't say that I'd have done the same"

Dean let out a sigh.

"Not like it matters much-I'm sure well all be dead and gone sooner or later."

"...We'll see about that." She said matter-of-factly.  
Dean looked at her distantly. When their eyes were latched, he spoke up.

"-Thanks...Meg."

"Cas!" Sam bellowed as two of the men dragged Cas off towards one of the cabins.

He tried desperately to go after them but was caught.

The confrontation had turned volatile. Salt-less guns were useless they'd thought so he and Cas tried to take the men on, one-on-one.  
The odds were not in their favor, however.  
The two had become separated during their brawl, leaving Sam with the other three.

"Now let's keep this civilized." The leader chuckled. He was very close to Sam, looking down at him from where he stood.

Sam struggled to his knees. The other two men wrangled his arms behind his back to keep him from moving. Sam grunted in defiance.

"Your friend will live, so long as you both cooperate."

"Ugh!" Cas groaned.

He'd been punched square in the stomach, knocking him to the hard floor.  
The two men laughed sadistically.  
One of them-the taller one, grabbed Cas by his shirt and lifted him to his feet.

"Well, well." He nodded his head from side to side.  
"Is this what angels have become?" He spat off to the side.  
"Not much different now, are we?"

Cas remained silent, avoiding his scrutiny.

"Sidney, knife." He clicked his tongue, signaling for the other man to hand him the weapon.

He stepped very near to Cas, his breath huffed against his face.

"I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this." He drawled.

Sam could hear Cas' screams from outside.

His heart leaped sporadically at the sound, his mind raced.  
The adrenaline that surged through him allowed him to break from the hold.

Without thinking, Sam scrambled to his feet and quickly reached for one of the discarded guns.  
His blood was pumping a mile a minute as he raised the rifle to shoot.

He shot one of the men that'd held him, and much to his astonishment-they fell flat to the ground.

Sam stood baffled for a moment until the other man began to charge at him as well. Another shot, and he was also dead.

"Wait!" The leader screamed, pleading.  
He threw his hands up in the air.

"I can help you find your brother!"

Sam searched the man with his eyes and noticed he had a piece of paper poking out from his pocket, a map.

Another agonizing wail was wrenched out from one of the cabins.

Sam glared back at the man infront of him without feeling, without pity. His eyes were cold and resolute.

He raised his rifle without hesitation, and shot.

"Cas!" Sam shouted repeatedly, stalking through the cabins.  
The silence weighed on him, his throat felt like it would tear at any moment.  
He just wanted some kind of response, anything.

There was another scream, though it was much weaker than the last few had been.  
Sam ran towards the sound, sprinting over to one of the abandoned cabins.

One of the men from before sprung out from the cabin door. Sam shot him on sight.  
Not long after did the other attempt to make his escape, running out from the back side.

One last shot, and it was over.

Sam rushed up the wooden steps, stopping in the doorway.

Inside he could hear heavy breathing.  
It was too dark to see however, he took a step forward.

"Sam-" Cas' voice sounded broken.

"Cas, where are you- are you alright?" He gasped. All of the adrenaline from before was starting to wear on him.

"I'll be alright- just...I need to get cleaned up, take care of the bodies."

Sam hesitated before he nodded, not knowing whether or not Cas had actually seen him. He left the cabin reluctantly.

Cas was lying, splayed out on the floor.  
Blood splattered all around him. His shirt had been torn, and  
on his back were two long distinct gashes cut down each shoulder blade.  
A large bruise had formed on his stomach-just above his navel, where he'd been previously hit.

Cas waited until he was sure he was alone, and wept to himself; both out of pain, and humiliation.  
Not long after did he stumble back to his own cabin.

While Sam finished burying the last of the bodies, he paused in contemplation.  
From out of his pocket he pulled out the map he'd seen previously, being carried on the 'demon' leader.

It was marked up from top to bottom-scratches were littered over areas he presumed they'd already searched.  
All of the markings formed around one empty space; the only area left untouched.

"The camp?" Sam said to himself.  
He scrunched the map up into a ball and threw it to the side.  
Obviously his brother wasn't at camp-  
They must have over looked something. Either way it was no help to Sam, or anyone else for that matter.

Sam walked up towards Cas' cabin- this time, much more calmly.

"Cas..." He leaned inside.

"Don't come in!" Came a frantic voice.  
Much to Cas' distress, Sam entered regardless of the warning.

Cas!"

The sight was gruesome.  
Cas had taken the spattered remnants of his shirt and threw them over by his dresser.  
His torso was exposed, revealing the two bloodied gashes.

Sam promptly went looking for some thread and needle.

When he came back Cas was seated on his bed, legs crossed. His head hung low, and his back still faced the door.

No words were exchanged between them as Sam began to stitch Cas' wounds up.

Cas hissed in agony. Sam mumbled a litany of quiet apologies and cooed when it deemed necessary.

The alcohol stung like a knife, the unpleasant sensation consumed Cas with it's sharp bite. It was as if he was reliving a nightmare, only this time, Sam's voice was there to steady his consciousness.  
He felt like he was being torn between two extremes; pain and comfort.

Sam observed his own stitching with a sympathetic gaze. The alcohol, he knew, was going to leave scars and these two marks weren't exactly something that Cas would've wanted to remember.

"They thought it was funny-" he winced.  
Sam looked up at him, brows raising.

"They're meant to be my wings..."

Sam swallowed uncomfortably, shifting in the chair where he sat directly in front of Cas.  
He sighed as he pulled the last stitch through with his right hand; it had been newly bandaged since the bar incident.

"I found some numbing salve." Sam said, changing the subject.

"It should help with the pain."

He stood up, walking over to the container of salve and took some of it in his left palm.  
Casting the chair aside, Sam angled himself on the bed next to Cas in order to reach him more effectively.

The first application was very cautious.  
Cas tensed at the contact-his back muscles contracted.  
Sam attempted to glance at his face, to determine whether or not he should stop. Cas however, kept turning his head away from Sam whenever he tried to look at him.

"You always end up cleaning my messes." Cas said sullenly, his voice was very low.

Sam stilled at his words.

"Cas, it's nothing like that, this is-we couldn't control this."

Cas shrugged indifferently.

"Perhaps you should've left me, back on the field. I'm just as much use to you then as I am now."

Sam clenched his fists in opposition, forcing Cas to look at him when he spoke.

"That's a damn lie! I'd never have left you back there, Cas. You were all I had left!"

Cas looked at him with tired eyes.  
"And now?"

"You're-" Sam hesitated. He knew what Cas was implying. Sam had Bobby now, and he may even have Dean on the notion that he might still be alive somewhere.  
What place did Cas have in his life now- a friend? An ally? Those titles didn't seem accurate enough for Sam.

He'd found him, he'd cared for him. He was all he had left, and-

Sam absent-mindedly continued to put salve on the other cut as his thoughts unraveled.

He wanted this, he wanted to care for someone. To able to heal rather than kill, and above all things, he wanted to feel-something.

Not for just anyone though, he knew now that this was the place where Cas had been; where he wanted him to be.

Sam sighed, resting his head against Cas' shoulder.

Cas leaned back in confusion.

"Sam?"

Sam's eyes were closed, he rocked his head gently from left to right-still resting on the shoulder.

"There, aren't any words to describe what you are to me, Cas."

Cas gazed at him in a disbelief.

Some strange current flowed between the two of them as their eyes met, almost like fear. Sam was the first to turn away.

They sat like that for a while, in the quiet; Sam turned to the side as Cas continued to stare out at him.

Slowly, Cas began to reach for Sam's hand, placing his own lightly on top of it.  
Sam stiffened slightly, turning back to Cas who was much closer to him now.

"Sam-"  
Cas started to speak, but was interrupted when Sam removed his hand from the hold, placing it loosely around the back of Cas' neck.

He then gracefully leaned forward, and pressed his lips to Cas'.


	7. Chapter 8: Now And Then

Ch.8 Now and Then

Cas woke in a haze. However, despite his current state of mind, he still felt a sort of warm glow enveloping him from the inside-out.

lying next to him slept Sam.

Cas' arm anchored around a bare chest. His fingers hovered over the anti-possession mark drawn there.  
He remembered Sam's face when he noticed that it had been broken.  
His expression softened when Cas decidedly put his head there, choosing instead to ignore it, as he listened to the echoing palpitations thudding underneath Sam's chest. He memorized their rhythm, holding onto them as if they were his own.

Cas was pulled out from his reveries when he heard a vehicle coming up into the camp.

He grabbed a clean shirt and threw it over his shoulders, walking out into the light of day.

Sam groaned, slicking his hair back when he realized he'd been left alone.

He briefly washed his face in the bathroom, afterwards, he dutifully collected his clothes off of the floor and put them back on.

When he was completely dressed, Sam overheard people talking from outside. One voice in particular had his heart pounding-so much so that he could hardly stand for a moment.

Panicked, he ran frantically outside, and what he saw he would have sworn was a dream.

"Dean!?" He shouted.

"Heya, Sammy."

Sam was speechless. He was so overcome with joy and shock that it took him some time to figure out what he should be doing next.

It took him another moment to realize that Dean was not alone.  
Bobby and Cas were there also, standing around Dean like they'd been talking to him for hours. Another stood by his side, pressed up against him; Meg.

Sam held his brother for a long time, no longer preoccupied with anything around them. A weight had been lifted from him. It was as if some obscure barrier had broken down, giving Sam a brand new world.

Cas looked them over fondly.

It was more than he could've ever wanted, all at once.

He let Dean go, eventually, catching up with him about all of the things they'd missed out on while they were apart. Injuries, enemy encounters, people they've seen, places they've been.

At one point in their conversation, Sam took Cas' hand in his own.

Dean noticed, turning towards Bobby who simply rolled his eyes at the gesture.  
Meg, who also saw, smirked amusedly just before lightly nudging Dean in the arm.

Dean looked distantly outward for a moment, contemplating. He then chuckled quietly to himself as he walked up between the two, and patted each of them on the back.

Then, just like that; they were a family again.


End file.
